And again- today is another milestone. My little peanut butter cracker, my bubba, my pickle-butt, my preshie-pants- he be 1! One year old, and I’m feeling just wretched about it.
I think about all of the moments I have missed and they gang up and rip my throat out.
My baby. My baby no more.
All I can see in him is the little boy. His cheeks are slimming, his back is broadening, his legs aren’t so bandy, his movements are so deliberate and becoming so precise. He doesn’t cry like a baby, he doesn’t eat like a baby, he doesn’t poop or smell or sleep like a baby anymore.
It’s gone, and my memory isn’t good enough. Do you know that we own a video camera but have never taped him? Not ever. It makes me sick.
But he is so wonderful. As we bounced on the bed this morning singing our birthday song, I was struck with just how fabulous he is and how I can’t wait to see the amazing adult he’ll become.
My little boy.
Today is Cole’s Birthday;Come we all and let us sing.Wish him health and all good things.Today is Cole’s Birthday!~~~Happy Birthday, Happy BirthdayWe love you.Happy Birthday and may all yourDreams come true.When you blow out your candle,One light stays aglow.That’s the love-light in your eyesWhere-e’er you go.
I love you Cole. Happy Birthday (baby).
Today is a landmark. A Goal achieved. A Destination reached.
It has not always been easy. Sometimes it has been the hardest thing. Other times it has been as easy and comfortable as breathing. Sometimes it has been the only thing to get me through. Sometimes it’s what makes it hard to keep going.
But it has always, ALWAYS, been worth it.
Ten years ago today, John and I went on our first date. This is the anniversary we hold dear- more than our wedding date or the day we finally signed our marriage papers and made it official. This is the anniversary of our beginning. This is celebrating our dedication to each other.
I like to think of this day as the first day of our next ten years. We can clean house- keeping the things we love about our relationship and trying to leave behind the petty bullshit. We’ll set our new goal for the next ten years. We’ll re-dedicate ourselves to each other; to our family.
John, I love you very much. Thank you.
(Cole took 5 steps all by himself last night. Yay! Big Boy!!)
This past weekend was a bit crazy. The belly dancing troupe that I’m a part of threw a festival. Though I didn’t dance this time, I was still insanely busy/stressed because I ran the airbrush tattoo booth.
I have never done airbrushing before. Even though I used stencils, there was more skill involved than I originally anticipated. Before getting to the festival, the only practice I had was on paper. I didn’t have the makeup and I didn’t have willing bodies to experiment on.
It was kind of a disaster. It got better later in the night, but in the first few hours I messed up LOTS of tattoos (the wonderful thing is that they WIPE OFF!) and caused my air compressor to shut itself down ( I thought I had killed it).
I got help with the compressor (it didn’t come with a manual- thank goodness for other people’s handy husbands!), and I got practice with the gun. It was a real learning experience.
We didn’t make a whole lot of money this time, but the better I get the hang of it all the more we can rake it in. I’m sure of it.
There was some really beautiful dancing. If you were in the area and didn’t come you really missed out. I think we all have ideas about how it can go better next year.
I certainly am inspired to dance again. What creative, wonderful, talented people there are out there. I’m so glad to know so many of them!
I was having trouble with a printer the other day, and just about the time I was ready to put the baseball bat to it, this message popped up on the little read-out. “PC LOAD LETTER.” No joke. But, instead of it pissing me off more, it just made me laugh. I called John over and made him see it, because he’d never believe me otherwise.
PC Load Letter. That’s got to be one of the stupidest command phrasings ever. But now I know what it means.
I’m going to enter a picture in this photo contest . I just can’t decide which. I’m going to post both that I like here so that I can see them together. Maybe I’ll come to a decision before the 27th. Possibly.
This is pretty wonderful.
I wish I liked Dove products more.
After much deliberation over the amazing names offered by my creative readers (you guys are just so sexy when you’re all clever like that), I have come to a decision.
I have to agree with many of you who cast votes in favor of this name, even though it was not to your advantage if you wanted to win. I appreciate all of the love you give to your fellow commenters. It’s so nice to see you all being so supportive of each other. You guys play so nicely!
Anyway, I have chosen the name “Sehr Schnell” from Ticknart, though, after the debacle yesterday, perhaps I should be naming it “the Punisher.” Wait… that’s it! Sehr Schnell, The Punisher (that’s Schnellie to you!).
Thanks to everyone who participated. I have to give special thanks to Alliya who, though joining us a bit late, gets the title for “Most non-Sequiter and ‘Huh?’-inducing Tricycle Name Of The Year” for her entry of “Oprah’s Couch”. It was tempting, but then I’d have to think about Tom Cruise every time Cole wanted to go ride and…Uggghhhh*shudder*. No.
(Of course, Oprah’s couch did have Barak Obama’s butt on it yesterday. He’s totally my one and only Politician Crush.)
So- Sehr Schnell, The Punisher it is.
Josh will be receiving a lovely gift as soon as I can figure out what that will be. But I swear- you’re really getting something! I promise!
These are from Tuesday after the step incident.
A popsicle, y’know- for the swelling.
I’ve never seen a kid cry about a grape popsicle before…
Am I extra awful because I just laugh every time I see that pouty face? It’s sad, but it’s also just so cute.
On Tuesday I went home sick after only 5 hours at work. I didn’t go in at all yesterday. Today I’m back, and Cole is definately better for it. I am clearly a hazard for my son.
My evidence? Tuesday he was cruising around, using the edge of the couch back for stability. When he got to the tile step, he let go. Because of the graham cracker in his hand, he couldn’t catch himself properly and he slammed his face into the edge of the step, busting open his upper gum (right where his new tooth is coming through) and hurting his tongue. He managed to miss his lip completely, thank goodness.
There was blood and screaming and masses of tears. He’s okay, no stitches needed or anything, but I’m still reliving it.
Yesterday I took him outside on his tricycle, thinking we both could use a little fresh air. Not five minutes into the walk, he stuck his feet (clad only in socks and soft leather slipper-shoes) up against the front tire and one got sucked up underneath the tire-cover thingy, stopping the trike cold. I couldn’t figure out why we had stopped like that until I heard him start to scream.
This time there was no blood, but the place on his ankle lost a couple layers of skin and I wouldn’t be surprised if it ended up bruised.
So I think he’s actually safer at daycare today.
I know these things happen, really I do. But just because he’s going to get hurt from time to time doesn’t mean I have to like it or want to be the cause.
I don’t really feel any better today. My head is throbbing, my throat is sore, and I feel really dizzy. I desperately need some real sleep. Not just the hour or so that I get between the times when Cole wakes up and wants me. He stands in his crib and points at me and cries. Who could refuse that? Especially when I have the ankle and the mouth to make up for. Ugggh- the guilt. It is crushing.